


we breathe so brief

by shadyplots



Category: Cherry Falls (2000)
Genre: did anyone want exploration of timmy's character? no, did i write it anyway? maybe so, i dont even like this movie much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 12:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13411326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadyplots/pseuds/shadyplots
Summary: because of course its a bad idea to get attached to characters in a slasher movie





	we breathe so brief

Timmy pulled out his phone as it began to ring, leaning back in his desk chair. 

"Who is this?" He asked, skeptically. He of course hoped it'd be Jody, but that was a long shot, and he knew it. She wouldn't dare go against her father, especially not to help with Timmy's crappy gossip column in the crappy school newspaper. Just in case though, he accepted the call and held the phone to his ear. 

The voice Timmy heard wasn't Jody's, but it was familiar. He couldn't quite work out who it belonged to - the caller was clearly making an attempt to disguise themselves. 

"Is this Timmy?" It said. 

"Who's askin'?" Timmy replied, drily. He kicked up his feet onto the edge of his bed, the boots messing up the perfect white sheets. 

"This number is listed as the anonymous tipline." The voice said, muffled slightly on the other end of the line. "I have a tip."

The tone of this voice was unsettling, slightly, but Timmy couldn't afford to turn down any information if he was serious about getting the scoop first. Even if the guy was breathing right down the line, his rasps echoing into Timmy's ears and lingering longer than they should. 

"Yes?" Timmy said, slowly. 

"If you want to know the truth about what's been happening, go to the high school in half an hour. There's an emergency PTA meeting." The voice paused. "I think you'll find what they have to say quite relevant to your interests."

The phone then clicked, signalling the other caller had hung up. Timmy quickly grabbed a marker and scrawled the onscreen number on his wrist before it faded, trying to commit the digits to memory. He made a mental note to call back if the advice rang true. He wasn't counting on it, but on the other hand, nobody called his tip line, not even to make fun of him. Something told Timmy this was serious, if the murder of three classmates wasn't enough of a hint.

The walk to the school was short, but as he bided his time the words of the caller did not seem to leave his mind. However much he tried to concentrate, drawing out his eyeliner and focusing on tomorrow's report, the voice whispered in his ear and echoed around the white walls of his bedroom.

* * *

 

Timmy knew his mother wouldn't take issue to his leaving the house - it happened often, Timmy clambering out his window with a notebook and pen. He shoved his torch in the pocket of his jeans, laced up his clunky combat boots, and slung his camera around his neck. His eyes flicked to the drawer where he kept the ongoing reports - locked. Good. He was ready to leave. 

As Timmy walked briskly up the empty streets towards his school, he ran over the events in his head. One young couple, and a girl too, all his age, and all murdered in gruesome ways. It was confusing, even more so when something so exciting happened in Virginia's shithole-iest town. But somehow he wasn't scared, not afraid of being targeted himself. Timmy didn't really feel part of their scene, consider himself one of them. Jody and the gossip column were his only tethers to the social goings-on at Thomas Jefferson high. He was aware of everything important, had to be, but he was an outsider. Timmy watched, he didn't participate. 

By the time he reached the school, his hair stood on end, and the cold had swept his hair back, reddened his cheeks. The windows of the building were dark, but a few people could be seen entering through the front door, and loitering in the carpark. He watched the crowds move in for a second, and then darted round to the back of the building through one of the side entrances. 

From what Timmy had predicted, the PTA meeting would be held in the gymnasium, the parents sitting on the bleachers. He made his way to the floor above, taking the back stairs. They brought back less than fond memories for him, he thought, tracing his hand along the cement walls and scraping off paint chips. Many a time he'd been subjected the verbal abuse of other students in this back corridor, shoved around by some of the school's most prestigious assholes. The gossip column was his defence against that. Knowing secrets got you power, respect. And being the school's only obviously gay student, Timmy needed all the respect he could get.

Once he reached the viewing platform, he looked down over the gymnasium. This was widely considered the best spot for spying and not getting caught. As he approached the wire screen, however, he saw the outline of someone else, peering down below. Jody stood, her face illuminated by the flourescent lights, her knuckles white from gripping the mesh.

She still hadn't gotten back to Timmy yet, but he found it promising that she'd come here too. It'd be much easier to work out the details of the situation with help, especially that of the sherrif's daughter. 

He jumped up behind her, and clamped his hands on her shoulders, spinning Jody around to face him. 

"Boo!" He giggled, before becoming more serious. "What are you doing here?"

She gasped, tensing beneath his grip before relaxing, seeing who it was. He shushed her. Timmy didn't want them found out before they even got to listen in on the meeting. It'd be a waste of a trip. 

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm getting the scoop!" He whispered back, conspiratorially.

"Get it!"

They both watched the parents file in and sit down, a comfortable but knowing silence between them. Timmy's eyes widened as the Sherrif began to talk, and gasped himself then as the waiting ranks of parents were told exactly why their own sons and daughters were being picked off...

"They're killing virgins!" Timmy exclaimed, beside himself with intrigue and excitement. "This is totally excellent, would you look at them? They're turning into a bunch of mindless animals down there!"

Jody's gaze remained fixed on the parents, who were squabbling and fighting below. Despite Timmy's outburst, the shouting ensured they still had not been heard.

Timmy switched on his camera.

"Jody, get out of the way."

Jody eyed his smile with concern, but moved out of the way nonetheless to let Timmy snap a few photos of the congregation. The whole time, his grin did not fade, his eyes sparkling with the knowledge his article would be the most talked-about for years. He had to call the newspaper editor first, and then thank the tipster. 

"I'm out of battery." He asked suddenly, checking his cell. "Can I use your phone for a second? Please, please, please-"

Jody pouted, but gave it to Timmy anyway. He pulled her into a tight hug, ruffling her short dark hair, and strode away, already chattering to his editor. 

* * *

Timmy read the slightly smudged marker-pen number off his hand and dialed it into his phone, ready to thank the anonymous tipster for all their help. First though, he had to find a secluded location to talk without being discovered, somewhere with signal. He wanted to ask more questions, see if the tipster had any more information to offer. He didn't mind talking with the newspaper team in public, but this was different. His mother didn't mind her son's sneaking about, but if the school discovered Timmy snooping further before the report was published, his journalism scholarship was at risk. 

It was lucky he knew just the place to go. 

The locker rooms on the top floor of the school building were spacious, with great cell service. With rows upon rows of lockers there were plenty of hiding places, and the bench in the furthest corner was behind enough that he couldn't be seen from the entrance. It was colder as soon as he reached the end of the stairs, so he found himself rubbing his arms to keep warm, shaking slightly. Once slumped in the corner, he pressed the call button on the phone. 

Jody's phone began to chime, but strangely, there was a strange, faint noise from somewhere close. As Timmy sat there, waiting for the guy to pickup, he felt apprehensive for the first time since leaving his house that night. 

The noise grew louder, louder, increasing its ringing in volume and repeating until Timmy could stand the sound no longer. Was it possible the tipster was in here with him? No, it couldn't be - why would they have told Timmy to attend the meeting, if they were planning on spying themselves? 

"Fuck!" Timmy whined, forcing himself up from the corner where he'd been sat and walking closer to the source of the sound. "Um, Hello?" The phone continued to ring without response. 

Eventually Timmy located the noise. It seemed to be coming from behind a set of lockers, in the back corner. But as he edged to wards the other side of the room, foot steps echoed from somewhere else. 

Before Timmy could turn around, he felt hands around his neck, the soft linen of the sleeves brushing his skin. Then, a flash of silver in front of his eyes, and an unbearable pain obscured most of his thoughts, his throat beginning to burn. He could hear the breathing of his attacker slow and rhythmic in his ears, and identified it instantly as that of the tipster. He'd been led into a trap. 

Only then did it occur for him to struggle, so he dug the heels of his shoes into the floor, and began to wrestle the hands from his throat. For a second, he broke free of the person with the knife, making a quick dash to the exit of the locker room, but it was unsuccessful. His mouth began to fill with warm, metallic blood from the gash the knife had made in his throat, and he swallowed grimly. As he struggled with the door, the attacker grasped hold of him again and Timmy tried to prize the knife away, the blade slicing through his fingers and spilling crimson everywhere. He felt numb to the pain, but was unable to stop the knife inching closer to his neck. The first slash to his throat was painful enough, and he couldn't risk another one. 

The figure was pushing on Timmy's shoulderblades now, trying to force him backwards against one of the locker doors in the cramped corridoor. Timmy tried to scream, for Jody or for anyone - getting caught was the least of his worries, now - but instead he gagged, choking blood into his mouth from the wound he'd sustained. He felt the metal door be opened behind him and fell back ungracefully into the locker, the back of his jacket snagging on the peg. 

The knife was pressed up against him, the cold metal contrasting with the warm blood streaming from the gash. Timmy felt empty, unable to fight off the attacker. As the blade ran straight across his throat, all Timmy did was search for the dark, uncaring eyes of the person before him, and held their gaze. 

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on tumblr @2972000


End file.
